


The Three Revelations

by boywholivednotdied



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Era, Confessions, Fluff, M/M, Magic Reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-07 13:38:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5458415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boywholivednotdied/pseuds/boywholivednotdied
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Turns out, there's a lot Arthur didn't know about Merlin. Canon-Era. Merlin/Arthur.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Revelation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rogue37](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rogue37/gifts).



> • I've been working on a longer fic for a while now, so this is only going to have three chapters. Also I wrote this in the middle of exams, so please excuse the dumbness that is my writing.  
> • I'm not British, so if my slang is off I apologise. 
> 
> This fic is dedicated to my friend Danny (merlination.tumblr.com), who bet me that I couldn't write a fic where a particular something is revealed, but have both Arwen and Merthur be canon. Happy Holidays Danny! It's probably not what you expected, but I hope you like it anyway.

  **The First Revelation**

Arthur Pendragon was not the best when it came to dealing with emotions.   
****

Ok, maybe that’s a _slight_ understatement. When he was five years old, for example, Leon accidentally pushed him into a puddle of water. The other boys had taken one look at him - his dirty blonde hair plastered to his forehead, the black water dripping steadily down his nose, his trousers covered in damp patches - and they had laughed, raucous jeering laughter, until their stomachs ached and they were practically rolling on the grass. Uther had told him, time and time again, _Arthur don’t react._ A prince must not show agitation. A prince must remain calm and collected. That was the important part. So Arthur pretended like it didn’t bother him, and they finally stopped. 

That could have been the end of it, but it wasn’t. Because Arthur was his father’s son, and his father was known for his temper. So Arthur kept that anger bottled up inside him, and it grew hotter and hotter with each passing second. Then he was having dinner in the Great Hall, and noticed that the cook had put carrots into his stew even though she undoubtedly _knew_ he hated carrots, and the burning hot anger surged out of him. He screamed and threw his plate across the room so that the stew spilled on the shiny floor and caused the jester to slip when he came in to entertain them. 

A part of him - granted a very small, uncharacteristically astute part - was aware of this. Even back then. Yet he didn’t stop. Something would upset him or cause him fear and anger and he’d take it out on whatever was the closest, whoever was the easiest. Morgana beat him in sword fighting, so he yelled at Leon for yawning during dinner in front of the whole court. His father had stopped him from attending a melee in Mercia, so he was rude to the stable boy. And yes, the habit continued well into his twenties. Admittedly, it had lessened since Merlin became his servant. Perhaps because Merlin had taught him to understand that all people were equally important regardless of class, but more likely because Merlin was such an easy target, and so easily within reach that Arthur never had to take his anger out on anyone else. Something would piss him off or scare him or upset him (or sometimes those dumb strange feelings would return for a fleeting moment) and all he’d have to do was find Merlin. Then he’d throw a bucket of water over him, or give him chores, or yell at him about something he was doing wrong. And knowing Merlin, he was certainly doing something wrong. 

Yes, alright. Arthur was complete rubbish at dealing with emotions. 

So it was naturally somewhat of a problem when Gwen broke up with him. He was actually having quite a nice day, and then she came in and quietly asked Merlin to leave. Which he did, smirking and winking at Arthur. But Arthur knew it wasn’t what Merlin was thinking. Something was wrong. Gwen never came to him in the middle of the day with an expression like that. He stood up, and she looked at him with those large doe-eyes, wringing her hands and biting her lip and admitted she had found love with another. 

“Who is it?” Arthur had asked, his voice level. 

“Does it matter?” 

Arthur supposed it didn’t. Well, until he found out that it was Leon. 

He came to ask Arthur permission two days later. He entered with a bowed head and asked if he could court her. Humbly. Respectfully. Apologetically. And Arthur - stupid bloody idiot - he’d given his blessing. But then he’d thrown a goblet against the wall and retaliated by taking all the knights sans Leon to the tavern. 

Which was a problem. Arthur had bought them the most expensive drinks, and before they knew it, it was well past midnight and they were all completely drunk. And they had practice in the morning. Bloody hell. And on top of it all, Arthur was feeling sad again. He watched the bar maid flirt with a tall strapping young man and felt resentment gurgle through his gut. 

“We’ll find you someone else,” Gwaine said, sloshing ale all over the wooden table. He was oddly perceptive for someone so vacuous and clueless. The tavern was dimly lit, and the knights were clustered around the table. They were all in their day-clothes, nothing bearing the crest of Camelot. While they seemed to be having a good time, they were quieter than usual. Soft music came from somewhere Arthur couldn’t see. Merlin sat perched on the end of the bench, not drinking. He was alternating between staring into his tumbler of mead and looking at Arthur. There was something in his eyes. Concern. _Pity_. Arthur felt a bolt of agitation run through him. 

“I’m fine,” Arthur announced. “I’ll bounce back.” 

He again avoided the eye of the girl with the black curly hair who was staring at him from across the room. Tomas, Arthur’s least favourite knight who had unfortunately seated himself next to Arthur, nudged him in the side. 

“That girl has been making eyes at you all night,” he said, nodding towards her. “If you’re not going to make a move, I will.”  

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Arthur said. His tried to sound nonchalant, but his voice came out stiffly. “For me, I mean.” 

“Why?” Tomas asked, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you said you were fine?” 

Arthur clenched his teeth. He wanted to punch the smug look off Tomas’s face. Oddly enough, Arthur used to be really close to Tomas when they were teenagers. Back then they were practically inseparable. Tomas had been there when Arthur had met Merlin for the first time; the one who encouraged Arthur to pick on Merlin again when they met for the second time. He and Tomas had fallen out of touch a few months after. Arthur wasn’t quite sure why. But it didn’t matter. He couldn’t bloody stand the man now.

“Like you could get that girl anyway,” Arthur sniffed. “She’s far too comely to even glance in your direction.” 

“She’s only interested in you because she doesn’t know you,” Tomas said. 

The other knights fell silent and Tomas laughed, hitting Arthur across the shoulders. “Relax boys, Arthur knows I’m joking.” 

Tomas was grinning now. The yellow light from the candles blazed wickedly in his eyes. Arthur couldn’t stand it. He stood up, almost tripping over the bench. Merlin jerked up from his seat, prepared to help. Arthur shooed at him. 

“I’m going to go over there.” Liquid courage. His cheeks were warm. He took another gulp of his ale and stumbled over to the girl. She was on the far side of the room, and watched with amusement as he came close. 

“Excuse me,” Arthur said, a hiccup emerging from his lips. “Can I buy you a drink?” 

The girl stifled a giggle. “If you wish.” 

Arthur stumbled over to the bar and ordered a goblet of wine. He took it over to her, spilling some on the front of his tunic. Well not _his._ It was Merlin’s. He’d insisted on dressing like a commoner, because he was not in the mood to get attention. An odd mood for him, to be sure. She took the cup, throwing a glance at his hair. He touched it, only to realise it was sticking up like Merlin’s tended to do. He smoothened it, feeling awkward. 

“Are you going to sit?” she asked. Her voice was high-pitched, like a little girl’s. 

He sat down hard. She snorted into her cup. 

“You’re very pretty,” he slurred slightly. 

“Thank you.” 

“So, um…” Arthur scratched his head, trying to find words. He threw a look back at the knights. Tomas gave him a thumbs up. Merlin wasn’t even paying attention. Gwaine had moved over to Merlin’s end of the table and the two were talking. Merlin was giggling into the back of his hand. Arthur turned back to the girl. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m not in the best mood today. But I’d like to take you out when I’m more sober.” 

“Alright,” the girl said, letting out a sigh. She smoothened her dress. “I’m going to stop you right there. As tempting as that sounds, I’m sorry to say your friend is the one I’m interested in.” Arthur followed her gaze. Tomas was grinning at the girl. She giggled, “I thought he knew I was looking at him?”

Arthur felt embarrassment and fury wash over him. He was shaking by the time he made it back to his table. He sat down hard, refusing to make eye-contact with Tomas. Merlin and Gwaine were still wrapped up in their own stupid little idiot bubble. 

“So, if you’re not going to have her, can I?” Tomas asked. 

“You can certainly try,” Arthur scoffed. He could feel hot tears building up in his eyes, but he blinked them away. 

“She turned you down, did she?” He was really rubbing it in now. Arthur clenched his fists. 

“No. I just wasn’t interested.” All the knights were looking at him now, that same pity in their eyes. “I’m not the one who needs help,” Arthur continued. His voice was obnoxious.  “You know who really needs help finding a girl?” he paused, and then it was out before he could stop himself. “Merlin.” 

Merlin’s eyes widened and the knights burst out laughing. Spurred on, Arthur made his voice louder. “Look at the poor lad, you think any girl has ever even _considered_ kissing that?” His head was fuzzy from the alcohol, and the tiny astute part of his mind chastised him, told him to stop. But he couldn’t obey. Not when all the pain from that morning was fizzing through his veins. When his neck was still hot from the embarrassment from mere moments ago. “How would they? I mean, just look at how gangly he is. Look at those ears.” 

Merlin remained silent, but he was turning bright red. Gwaine had stopped laughing, but the other knights continued, voicing the fact that they’d never seen Merlin with a girl. A lot of them sounded surprised. Agador ruffled his hair and thumped him on the back. 

“We ought to find someone for him,” Elyan agreed. 

“I’m alright, thank you,” Merlin said. His voice was steady, but the blush was rising to his cheekbones. 

“Come on Merlin,” Arthur said. “Don’t you want a finally become a real man?” 

“Right, and you’re going to teach me how to do that, are you?” Merlin asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“I am a real man,” Arthur proclaimed. 

“Oh yes, a real man who can’t put on his own trousers. A rare breed.” 

Percival snorted into his mead, and Arthur could feel the hot fingers of embarrassment creeping up his cheeks again. His stomach that had been churning incessantly since that morning clenched. 

“How about that girl?” Elyan asked, pointing to a short pock-marked girl with mousey brown hair who was hunched behind the counter. Probably a chamber maid or something. 

“Seems out of Merlin’s league,” Arthur said breezily. He knew Merlin was glaring at him with those cerulean eyes. Those hurt eyes that _knew_ Arthur was taking out all his frustration on him. Arthur couldn’t bring himself to look at them. “Still,” Arthur continued. “It’s worth a shot. Why don’t you go over and talk to her, Merlin?” 

Arthur finally mustered up the courage, and turned to look at him. Merlin’s brow was furrowed. His hair was sticking up oddly, mussed from when Agador had ruffled it. 

“Don’t you want to have your first kiss?” Arthur asked, his voice saccharine. The knights burst out into peals of laughter again. Tomas was laughing the loudest. Merlin took a deep breath. 

“Thanks for the offer, but I’ve already had that.” 

“I didn’t mean with the back of your hand.” 

Tomas laughed so hard he fell off the bench. 

“Alright, Arthur,” Percival said, reaching over for his tankard. “I think you’ve had enough to drink. And the lad’s had enough of your…” 

Arthur slammed his hand down on the table, and Percy froze. “I’ll know when I’ve had enough,” he muttered. He looked past all the knights. Gwaine had his arm around Merlin, a hand clutching his shoulder. Merlin looked confused and agitated, all small and innocent with his bright eyes and his messy hair. “Come on then, Merlin? Who was she? Your mother doesn’t count.” 

Agador snickered loudly. Elyan grinned. Arthur smirked. He turned to the others, shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter even if he tells us. It would probably be some  girl ‘we don’t know’.” 

“Oh you know her,” Merlin said. The forcefulness in his voice made Arthur jerk, but he retained his composure. 

“Do I? Who was it? The cook?” Percy let out a giggle. Merlin’s expression was hardening. Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Is that why she’s always angry at you?” he put on a pout. “Did you break her heart?” 

“Why are you so concerned anyway?” Merlin spat. “Jealous?” 

Arthur scoffed. “Of what? The fact that you haven’t ever kissed a girl?” 

“Why are you so sure I haven’t kissed a girl?” 

“Because you’re with me all the time. You think I wouldn’t know if you were off snogging some stable maid?” 

“Well considering that you don’t, I’d say yes.” 

Arthur felt a flush of heat run through his skin. “Don’t know what?” 

A smug smile appeared on Merlin’s face. Arthur was frowning now. 

“When could you have possibly kissed a girl?” Arthur asked. The pitch of his voice was rising. 

“I’ve had plenty of occasions.” 

“Such as?” 

“I don’t know. Maybe when you went to the Forest of Balor to get the Mortaeus flower?” 

“ _What?”_ Arthur’s head was pounding. His gut twisted. That was back before he’d fallen in love with Gwen, when he’d been experiencing some strange feelings for a particular blue-eyed scrawny thing. “As _if_. You were dying.” 

“So I was.” 

“Then what the hell are you going on about?” 

Merlin blinked innocently. “Why don’t you ask Gwen?” 

Arthur’s eyes widened. He couldn’t get a single word to come out of his mouth. Merlin took a sip of his mead. Gwaine was trying to stifle his laughter. 

“You don’t believe him, do you?” Arthur asked, turning back to the knights, disbelief making his voice even higher. Elyan shook his head and muttered some form of protest. Tomas looked alarmed. No one else said anything. Well, except Gwaine who was still giggling, the damn fool. 


	2. The Second Revelation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the kudos and reviews, guys! I really really appreciate it. This chapter got a bit angstier than I expected it to be. I'm sorry. Oh and also this chapter has some swearing in it. Just a warning. Enjoy!

**The Second Revelation**

There was a knock on the door. A muffled knock, which meant it probably wasn't one of the guards or the knights. Arthur remained sitting on his desk, his forehead pressed against the wood and enveloped in his arms so he couldn't see who entered the room when the door squeaked open. For a second there was no sound.  _Please don't be Gwen,_ Arthur silently begged. Then he could hear the sound of boots across the floor, and knew it wasn't her. Though whether it was better or worse that it was his servant was debatable.

"Arthur," Merlin said softly.

Arthur wrapped his arms tighter around his head. He stared at the wood, hoping Merlin would just leave.

"Arthur," Merlin repeated. Arthur could feel a hand touching his hair and he jerked up, sending Merlin reeling backwards.

"Go away," he said, through gritted teeth. "And it's  _my lord_ or  _sire._ Don't call me by my name."

Merlin looked distraught, and Arthur's jaw clenched. He'd slept badly the night before, itchy from Merlin's shirt and nauseous from the alcohol. He couldn't stop thinking about Merlin and Gwen. Gwen had kissed Merlin?  _Merlin?_ While Arthur was off saving Merlin's life, his girlfriend had kissed his best friend. Unbelievable. Granted, Gwen wasn't his girlfriend back then, and Merlin was his servant  _not_ his best friend, but still. It irritated him. Merlin had kissed Gwen before he had? Gwen had been Merlin's  _first kiss?_

But mostly his mind had replayed that scene, over and over again, the humiliation of that night. The sound of the knights' laughter, the high-pitched giggle of the girl with the black curls. Merlin's smug smile. Tomas's crooked one.

"I wanted to apologise," Merlin said. He bowed his head slightly, sticking a hand into his hair. "I shouldn't have done what I did. It was wrong and absolutely out of line and… I know you were hurting and I made it worse. I'm so sorry."

Arthur's head was aching. The lump in his throat he'd tried so hard to keep down was returning.

"I said get out of my sight, Merlin," he seethed. Merlin looked like he hadn't slept either. He looked more unkempt than usual. His eyes were red and watery.

" _Arthur_ ," he said, forcefully. "Listen to me. It was long before you even really knew she existed. It was  _one_ kiss. It meant nothing. She was just… she was relieved that I was alive, that's all. We never talked about it after that." He chewed his lip. He always did that when he was guilty about something. Arthur knew that. Merlin wasn't telling the whole truth. It probably  _had_ meant something. If not to Merlin, then to Gwen. Arthur's heart was aching. He was so embarrassed. Why had he had so much to drink? Why had he allowed himself to be so irrational? So reckless?

"I  _said_ it's 'my lord' or 'sire'," Arthur muttered.

"Fine,  _my lord._ " There was a flash of agitation in Merlin's eyes which dropped away to reveal pure regret. "Please forgive me."

Arthur could feel the fury bubbling up inside him, and a dozen insulting comments started crawling up his throat, rising to his lips. But then Merlin reached over and touched his hand, and he forgot all of them. Arthur stood up, pulling his hand away from Merlin's.

"I'll think about it," he said gruffly, "get back to work."

Merlin's face broke out in a smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners and his dimples deepening. "Yes, my lord," he said.

Arthur could feel his fury fading and he struggled to hold on to it.

"Don't smile," Arthur grumbled. It was no use. He and Merlin both knew he was going to forgive him.

"Don't be a prat," Merlin returned, cheerfully.

And that was that. Well, Merlin's side of it anyway. It was almost a month before Arthur finally got up the nerve to apologise to Merlin in return.

They had come back from the tavern, the first time they had been there since Arthur's discovery of the Merlin and Gwen incident. Leon came along this time, and halfway through the evening, Arthur realised the warm fuzzy feeling in his gut was contentment. His oldest friend was back by his side again. Just like it was meant to be. They laughed and talked, and the knights were as flippant as usual, and Arthur flirted with a girl who blushed and giggled. Just like that, everything seemed to fall back into place.

The knights had gone back to their rooms, so it was just him and Merlin making their way through the dark castle. Merlin was flushed pink, his cheeks warm and his eyes bright. He snickered as Arthur tripped on the stairs, and then tripped on the same stair a moment later. They both fell down in the hallway outside Arthur's chambers, sprawled across the floor, their back to the wall, giggling.

Arthur rested his head against the cool stone. They could hear the thundering footsteps of the palace guards somewhere in the castle. The torch in the hallway flickered, casting weak shadows along the wall across from them. Arthur watched them contentedly.

"Merlin," Arthur mumbled.

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry."

Merlin turned to Arthur, his brow furrowing with confusion. Arthur laughed.

"What?" Merlin asked.

"Don't make me say it again."

Merlin looked befuddled. Adorably so. Well, not  _adorable._ Just… cute. He looked fine. Whatever. "For what?"

"For that thing. That I did."

"You do a lot of things."

"I mean that thing I did that upset you."

"That's what I meant."

Arthur made a face, "Shut up, Merlin." Merlin snickered. Arthur was struggling against all his impulses; it wasn't like him to express what he was feeling. But it had been long enough. He had to say it. "Seriously Merlin. I… I made fun of you in front of all the knights. About you… and girls and kissing. That was… it was…" Arthur's voice faded to silence.

"Oh that?" Merlin laughed. "I'd forgotten all about that."

Arthur knew he should have felt relief but all he felt was more guilt. He'd  _forgotten?_ What did that imply about Arthur? How often did he make Merlin feel so awful, that he'd actually forgotten that time Arthur had humiliated him in front of all the knights? Arthur figured he must have been looking at Merlin oddly because Merlin stopped talking mid-prattle and raised an eyebrow.

"What's the matter with you?"

"Why do you put up with me?" The words were out before he could stop them. Merlin widened his eyes.

"What do you mean?" Merlin asked.

"Nothing…I just… I mean… I'm so awful to you…"

"You're not that bad." Arthur scoffed and tugged uncomfortably at his tunic. "No, really…" Merlin insisted. His voice was hoarse and soft. Arthur leaned closer to hear him, dropping his gaze as he did so. "You're not… well, you're not nice to me all the time, but I… I get it. Your dad. Morgana. That's got to be hard."

"I shouldn't take it out on you."

"I agree with that." Merlin grinned, his eyes sparkling. "But I still like you, clotpole."

That was what Arthur didn't understand. Why? The thought confounded him. All he did was bully Merlin. He was selfish. He was so wrapped up in his own life, he tended to forget that Merlin had a life of his own. Merlin seemed to sort of guess what he was thinking, because his smile dropped.

"Arthur," he said, his voice even lower. "You've got a good heart. You actually care about people. Common people. You've saved my life multiple times. You've sacrificed your life for mine even though I'm nothing more than a servant. You disobeyed your father's orders to come to Ealdor to fight alongside my people…"

"Yes but those things don't make up for what I've done."

"But you're trying."

"I suppose so," Arthur swallowed, looking up at Merlin. "Is it working?"

He found himself trapped in the blue of Merlin's eyes, unable to pull himself away. Goosebumps broke out across his arm.

It was cold, that was all.

"Arthur…" Merlin whispered. Arthur blinked. Merlin's face seemed to be a lot closer to his than it was before. His gaze was fixed on Arthur, burning with an intensity Arthur had never seen in the brunette's eyes. " _God_ you  _prat_ …" Merlin's voice was thick, soupy. Arthur's heart started pounding. His chest seemed to be constricting. His stomach was doing something odd. Maybe he was ill. His breathing was getting quite ragged.

The sound of footsteps in the hallway sent them both skittering backwards. Merlin got unsteadily to his feet just as Tomas rounded the corner. The knight took one look at Arthur, still sitting on the floor, and let out a derisive laugh.

"Drunk again, my lord?" He shook his head, before turning to Merlin. "You should really make sure he doesn't drink so much, Merlin. He's under your care, after all."

"He's the prince, he can do whatever he likes," Merlin said, curtly.

Tomas shrugged. He looked at them for a moment and then plopped himself down between Arthur and Merlin. Merlin threw him a repulsed look that mirrored the disgusted expression Arthur had on his own face.

"So what are we discussing, lads?" Tomas asked. Merlin sat back down gingerly on the other side of Tomas. When neither of them said anything, Tomas shook his head. He threw an arm around Merlin. "Alright then. Forget that. Let's talk about something else." He paused for a moment, tapping his chin and then did an overly dramatic snap. "Oh! Do you know what conversation we never finished?"

Merlin rolled his eyes and Arthur stared down at the floor, feeling irritation spike his blood. He mentally calculated the consequences he'd have to face if he punched out Tomas's teeth.

Tomas waited, and when he received no reply, continued. "The one about Merlin's love life? The last time we'd gone to the tavern? You boys remember, right?"

"There's nothing more to say on that topic," Arthur said, icily.

"No, I think there is," Tomas said, "see, I remember Merlin saying that he had  _plenty_ of occasions to kiss girls. What I'm curious to see is whether Merlin took  _advantage_ of those occasions."

Arthur knew what he should have done. He should have told Tomas to get lost. To sod off and stop bothering Merlin and to stop bothering him, and  _damn_ the bloody arse for having the worst timing a human being could possibly have. Arthur even opened his mouth, but something stopped him. Maybe it was the desperate nagging part of Arthur that wanted to know the answer to the question.

Merlin was staring down at the floor, still not saying a word. His lips were pressed tightly together.

"Alright then," Tomas said, "if you won't tell him, I will." Tomas turned to Arthur. "Do you remember that druid girl?" he asked.

Arthur saw Merlin tense. Druid girl? What Druid girl?

"The one who turned into a giant panther with wings and attempted to kill us?" Tomas needled.

"The bastet?" Arthur asked. Merlin's eyes were fixed firmly on the ground. What did the bastet have to do with anything?

"Yes!" Tomas said, slapping Arthur on the back. "That thing. Do you remember the druid girl was missing for a while before that, and how Merlin was put in jail for it?"

"Merlin was wrongly accused," Arthur said. He tried to be forceful but his words sounded hollow. He stared at Merlin, waiting for him to say something, to defend himself.

"Oh you think, do you?" Tomas laughed. He turned to Merlin, grinning. "Gwaine talks a lot when he's got a few ales inside him. Well… with some prodding of course. But I wouldn't trust him with anything of importance." He leered at Merlin, his head cocked to the side. Merlin refused to meet his eye. "What I want to know is, if Arthur hadn't killed the thing, how would you have made it work? A druid girl who was a viscous beast by night? A bit of a high maintenance girlfriend, don't you think?" his laughter thundered off the walls.

A sour taste spread in Arthur's mouth. His stomach tightened. No. It couldn't be. Merlin didn't fancy a druid girl. More importantly, Arthur didn't kill a girl Merlin fancied.

"Come on, Merlin," Tomas continued, "tell us about her."

"Fuck off Tomas," Arthur snapped. The sound of his voice was harsh in the night silence. Tomas looked perturbed.

"My lord," he said, forcing a laugh, "I was merely…"

"Get out of here, or I'll have you exiled, I swear to god."

Tomas was getting paler. He got to his feet. "Sire," he mumbled, "I…"

"Go."

Quickly, Tomas turned away. Arthur could have sworn the man made a derisive comment about Merlin under his breath but he couldn't be sure. His head was roaring with thoughts. He waited until the sound of Tomas's footsteps faded into the darkness before finally turning to Merlin. His servant was still staring at the ground, his eyes watery.

"He's not right, is he?" Arthur asked. Merlin didn't say anything. Arthur could feel his throat constricting. "Did I kill her?"

Merlin bit his lip. It was all Arthur needed to know.

"I'm sorry," he rasped.

"It's alright," Merlin whispered. "You were doing your duty." He paused. "Maybe if I'd told you about her, things would have been different." He sighed. "It's my fault, really."

"Don't be stupid, Merlin," Arthur grunted. "It wasn't your fault."

Merlin looked up at Arthur, smiling gently. "I wish you'd met her. She was lovely."

"You really cared about her?" Arthur asked. There was a stiffness in his voice that he wished he could soften.

"I did."

"Did you… love her?"

The question hung in the air for a moment, like dust after a storm. Merlin dropped his gaze again.

"I don't know," he admitted after a long pause. "Maybe? I thought I did. She was kind and beautiful. She was a dreamer. She was… broken." His voice faded away but then he caught himself quickly. "But I've come to realise I didn't really know her. I suppose I believed I loved her because she had the capacity to understand. She knew what it was like to feel like a monster. To have-" Merlin suddenly froze.

"To have what?"

Merlin's eyes were wide, petrified.

"What did she have, Merlin?"

"Um. A dead father."

"Oh." Something poked at his mind, like impatient tapping fingernails. He ignored it. "I wish I had known her," he added, awkwardly. He paused and then mumbled, "You feel like a monster?"

Merlin looked uneasy now. He ignored the question. Maybe he hadn't heard it. Instead he continued talking about her, telling Arthur stories.  _Freya._ The Girl who Lived near a Lake. Arthur tried to listen, and he did. He nodded when it was appropriate and smiled when he needed to. But Tomas's question was still nagging at him, pulling at his thoughts until he couldn't take it any longer.

"What would you have done?" he blurted out. "You know… had she lived?"

Merlin looked confused, and then as Arthur's meaning dawned on him his shoulders stiffened. He squirmed in his place and Arthur felt a cold sweat break out across his neck.

"I don't know," Merlin mumbled.

"You must have had a plan," Arthur said. "She was a druid… and a cursed one, at that."

"Well yes," Merlin rubbed the back of his neck, not meeting Arthur's eye. "Naturally, we would have had to leave Camelot if she wanted to be safe."

Arthur's heart dropped like a stone. He knew he shouldn't have asked questions about the girl. He should have kept silent, but there it was.  _We. We_ would have had to leave Camelot. Merlin was going to run away with the druid girl to go and live somewhere else. Maybe on a farm. Somewhere near a lake, perhaps. The simple fact of the matter was, if Arthur hadn't killed the bastet, at this very moment Merlin would have been in a village, happy and in-love and far far away from Arthur.

Would Merlin have even bothered to say goodbye?

Hot tears were pricking Arthur's eyes now and he knew he wasn't going to be able to keep them at bay for long. He got to his feet. Merlin jumped up to help him, but Arthur turned away.

"I'm going to bed."

"My lord-"

"You can leave."

"What?"

"Go away."

"Don't be a prat, Arthur." Merlin forced a laugh. "We both know you can't eve-"

"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" Arthur snapped. "Perhaps off snogging stable maids? I'm a grown man. I can put myself to bed. And I'm pretty sure the knights boots have not been polished. Go make yourself useful."

He turned on his heel and stormed into his chambers, his heart aching as though someone had used it as a pin-cushion. Burning tears were leaking out of his eyes, and he wiped them aggressively from his cheeks. He was coming down with an illness. That was it. There was no other explanation.

He waited for a minute, staring at the door, but Merlin didn't follow him inside.


	3. The Third Revelation (and a couple more besides)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RIP Alan Rickman. The best potions professor there ever was.

**The Third Revelation (and a couple more besides)**

As Arthur lay there, unable to sleep, on his bed that suddenly felt too large, in the room that suddenly felt too stifling, he vowed never to drink again.

The buzz from the alcohol was wearing off, and he tossed and turned, feeling too hot and then too cold. His thoughts kept wandering, haunting him with images of the druid girl. Of the look on Merlin's face the day after Arthur had killed her. He couldn't stop hearing Merlin's words reverberating through his mind, his best friend's admittance that he was going to run away with the girl. With  _Freya._

Arthur tried to block the thoughts, tried remind himself that he didn't care about Merlin running away. Yes, alright. He felt guilty about killing the girl. And he was undeniably upset that he'd caused Merlin pain. That was never his intention. But it wasn't like he was a heartbroken lovesick girl or anything. Arthur's eyes  _were_  burning and his chest  _was_  feeling incredibly tight, but that was because he was coming down with an illness, not because he couldn't bear the idea of Merlin planning to run away with the lake girl. It wouldn't have made a difference to Arthur if Merlin had left.

Well alright, he was exaggerating a  _tad._ Merlin had become an indelible part of his life and Arthur would have been sad if Merlin had run away, but he wouldn't have been  _hurt._

Which was when the realisation hit him with such great force he sat up in his bed.

It wouldn't have hurt. It would have killed him.

The reality of his own feelings dawned on him with such clarity that Arthur couldn't even deny it. He cared about Merlin. Maybe more than he wanted to admit. And if that… that  _clotpole_ had run away, especially without saying goodbye, Arthur wouldn't have been able to deal with it. If there was one thing Arthur knew now, it was that he couldn't let that happen - not ever. He was an emotionally stunted prat who bullied Merlin instead of voicing how much he cared about him. Even after the Gwen incident he never asked Merlin about his own life, even though he wanted to know about it. Who would blame Merlin if he still wanted to run away? Absolutely no one. Merlin could run away tomorrow and not a single person would be surprised.

But Arthur wasn't going to let that happen. He had to fix things. As soon as possible. Before Merlin realised he'd probably be better off without Arthur.

The next thing Arthur knew he was padding down the hallways to Gaius' quarters. He was barefoot, and still in his sweat-soaked pajama tunic. The cold stone made his toes curl, but he continued stiffly down the hallways, his fingers trailing the walls as he carefully manoeuvred the dark corridor. He ducked in a nook as a group of guards stormed past. A cloud of aggressive whispers bombarded him - "Who does he think he is?" one of them was whining - but Arthur didn't pay attention to them. He was composing an apology in his mind, trying to come up with words he just didn't seem to have. As soon as the thundering footsteps disappeared into the darkness, he continued down to the physician's chambers.

 _Merlin… every since I was a young boy…_ no, how ridiculous.  _Merlin, I just wanted you to know…_ too nonchalant….  _Merlin, I need to talk to you._

Arthur halted outside the door. He prepared himself to knock when he became abruptly aware of how ridiculous he looked. He was in his  _pajamas._  And he had nothing to say. He panicked. He smoothened his hair, and looked about for answers. He found none. What could he say? He was stupid for thinking this was a good idea. How was stuttering about needing Merlin in his pajamas and bare feet going to help anything? Merlin would just laugh in his face. Like the girl from the bar. Like Tomas. This moment would evolve into one of the funny stories the knights told each other over dinner. He could picture Merlin telling the story, talking animatedly about how Arthur woke him up to stutter about  _feelings._ He could imagine the knights laughing until ale sprayed out of their noses. Arthur felt sweat break out on the back of his neck. He couldn't do this.

He was turning to leave, when he heard his name. Merlin was awake? He pressed his ear to the door. Gaius' muffled voice wafted through the cracks, and Arthur listened to the broken words, trying to pick up all he could.

"… understand."

"No he won't," Merlin's voice sighed in response. His servant's voice was louder, clearer. More confident, but sad. "He completely panicked, Gaius. And this was after discovering that I  _courted_ a druid. Imagine what he would…"

"Merlin, be reasonable. You don't know that that was why he got upset."

"What else could it be?" More mumbles. Arthur strained to listen. "He was trying. Really hard. I guess he felt guilty about killing her. He felt pity for me, I don't know. But in the end he lost it. Face it, Gaius. His hatred for magic is too strong. He'll never come around." There was a crack in Merlin's voice. A sob?

Why were they talking about magic?

_She had the capacity to understand. She knew what it was like to feel like a monster._

Merlin's words returned to Arthur, curling around his throat like an ice-cold hand. Arthur had murdered druid children because his father had commanded him to, yet his innocent, clumsy, bright-eyed Merlin who couldn't even stand hunting deer, claimed  _he_ felt like a monster.

An explanation tugged at his gut, louder and more insistent than it had ever been. Arthur tried to ignore it, tried to deny it.

"My magic is a part of me Gaius. It makes me who I am. I've said it before and I'll say it again. How can I protect someone who hates me? How can I l-"

Arthur backed away from the door, stumbling over his feet.

Magic.

_No._

He turned away from Gaius's chambers, his heart constricting in his chest. He could hear Merlin talking, but could no longer decipher any of the words. His thoughts were roaring in his head, blurring his vision.

Merlin couldn't have magic. That wasn't possible.

That wasn't  _fair._

Fear gripped Arthur. How could  _Merlin_ have magic? They spent every waking minute together, how could Arthur know so little about him? How could Arthur not know  _this?_ His breath caught in his throat. What if his father found out and had Merlin killed? What if Tomas found out and led a group of knights after Merlin like a hunting party after a deer? What if what happened to Morgana happened all over again, but with Merlin? Arthur couldn't bear to imagine it.  _His_  Merlin, golden eyes blazing, filled with pure hatred for Arthur.

A lump grew in Arthur's throat and tears blurred his vision. The chill that had been tinging his bare feet was now spreading through his entire body. His heart felt cold. His brain felt numb. He padded back towards his room feeling sick to his stomach.

His brain didn't register Tomas standing in the hallway until he was halfway down the corridor. The knight was standing outside of his room, closing the door carefully. Arthur stopped in his tracks, unsure of what was happening. Which was when he saw the knife clasped in Tomas's fist.

Arthur's mouth went dry. The dagger in Tomas's hand was glinting in the dim lights of the hallway. Tomas turned and Arthur slipped back around the corner, but it was too late. He could hear the knight's boots thudding against the stone. Arthur looked around frantically. There was nothing in the hallway except for a torch on the wall. He snatched it up. He thought of calling for the guards but Tomas wasn't an idiot. He wouldn't have come up to Arthur's chambers alone with a knife clutched in his hand, if there was the remotest chance he would be caught by the night's watch. Arthur wondered with a shudder what he'd done with the guards.

Tomas rounded the corner, his lip lifting in a crooked grin when he saw Arthur.

"Prince Arthur," he said, his voice hoarse. "There you are." He started walking towards him. Arthur waved the torch before him, causing Tomas to stop in his place.

"I don't know what you think you're doing, Tomas, but I command you to stop before you do something you're going to regret," Arthur commanded, his voice deeper and more confident than he felt. Normally, fighting Tomas wouldn't have worried Arthur in the least, but he was in his pajamas without a weapon. He felt… well, naked. Helpless. Plus there was something in Tomas's eye, something in the rude way he'd been speaking to Arthur lately. He'd changed. Something had made him confident in his impertinence. A poison running through his veins that had turned him from a mischievous boy into a bitter man.

Tomas was starting to advance now. The flickering light from the torch Arthur was holding cast bizarre shadows across the brunette's face. The heat was making Arthur sweat, and the smoke burned his eyes, tricking his vision. Arthur could have sworn the dagger Tomas was holding had a golden glow.

Until he realised that it  _was_  glowing.

"Like it, Pendragon?" Tomas asked, holding it up. "It's a magic dagger. The minute it punctures you, it will scald you, cause your skin to melt off your bones. One touch and the kingdom will be bereft of its heir. What a pity." He clicked his tongue. "It was a present from your sister, actually. She sends her regards."

The next thing Arthur knew he was skidding down the corridor. He could hear the dagger drop to the floor where Tomas had thrown it, but he didn't bother to turn to see how close it had gotten to him. He could hear Tomas thudding down the corridor behind him, yelping from the burn Arthur had given him when he threw his torch. He took a sharp turn to the right. He had to hide, but he didn't want to duck into a room and endanger anyone else. Arthur's breath was coming out in gasping puffs now. He needed help. Or a weapon. He took a left and then charged down to the end of the corridor where the knights slept. Their weapons were in Gwaine's room, if only Arthur could get his hands on a sword. His bare feet slapped the stone loudly. He skidded to a halt by the door and banged on it. There was no answer. Arthur slammed a shoulder into the doors and they burst open.

Arthur found himself standing in the middle of a room full of statues. There in the moonlight, Arthur could the pale grey stone men standing in a circle, clutching their swords, their faces stiff and unseeing. Arthur reached up to touch one. Cold stone. In the shape of Gwaine's face. His breath stuck in his throat.

"Clever, isn't it?" Tomas's voice wafted into the room. Arthur turned to the next one. Percival. And Elyan beside him. Arthur turned to Tomas.

"How could you do this?" he asked. His voice shook with rage. "They were your friends."

"They weren't my friends," Tomas spat. "They aren't yours either. They work for you. You're naive if you believe even for a second that they have any loyalty for you." The anger that clouded his expression for a moment broke abruptly, and a small smile took over his face. "Want to see something really impressive? Take a peek out of the window. Go on."

Hesitantly, Arthur made his way over to the end of the room and looked out. In the middle of the courtyard stood all the guards. The ones who were on duty as well as the ones who were not. The two from the dungeons. Six from the village patrol. The eleven from the night's watch. All of them standing stiffly at attention, their skin gray.

Statues. Every single one of them. Arthur could see a peasant woman sitting by the foot of one of them, sobbing. The only sign of life Arthur could see.

"How did you…?" Arthur's voice cracked.

"Wasn't difficult for Morgana," Tomas said, admiringly. "She's a magnificent creature, your sister. So under appreciated."

"But… you… and… and me?"

"The enchantment isn't in the air, you fool. It is on the weapons. You see, anyone who attempts to defend you this night by touching a weapon will immediately get turned to stone." Tomas held up his dagger. "Apart from this weapon, of course, which shall be your doom."

Tomas swung the dagger at Arthur again and Arthur leapt away, rolling between the sculptures. Tomas turned to follow him. Arthur shoved Percival, and the great stone statue fell backwards onto Tomas. Tomas let out a piercing cry of pain.

Arthur was helpless without a sword. He knew this. He'd have to improvise, to find an object that could be used as a weapon that was not really a weapon. Were the knives in the kitchen enchanted? Could he defeat Tomas with a broken chair? He had no time to think. He took off running again, down towards the grounds.

He racked his brain as he ran; what could he use to stop Tomas? In the moment, his heated brain gave him only one solution. He turned and began running towards the armoury. He had to trick him. He had to turn Tomas into stone before he could kill him, or anyone else. But the armoury was dangerous. Arthur was just as likely to forget about the curse and grab hold of a weapon as Tomas was. But he had no other solution. He couldn't fight off Tomas with stick or a chair, not while Tomas had that magic dagger. The odds were against Arthur, and if he lost, everyone else in the kingdom was doomed too. His sick father was doomed. Merlin was doomed.

Arthur halted at the entrance of the armoury. Beside him were the boots the knights used for training. He grabbed a pair and pulled them on. His aching feet felt a sense of relief after being scratched across the stone floors for so long. Arthur ducked behind a suit of armour, careful not to touch anything. A silence settled over the room, thick and stifling. Arthur crouched in the darkness, afraid to breathe.

"God you're stupider than I thought," Tomas's sharp voice tore through the silence. "The armoury? I wouldn't be surprised to discover you were stone already." Arthur could hear the footsteps advancing. "Come out and play," Tomas crooned. He stopped, and the turned, pointing straight at Arthur. "There you are." There was a large scratch on his face from where Percy had fallen on him. His cape was singed. Tomas held up the dagger. Arthur stood.

"Why are you doing this?" he demanded. He needed to distract Tomas while he came up with a plan. He  _needed_ a plan. "Helping my sister? I trusted you, Tomas. Yet here you are betraying your kingdom. Betraying  _me."_

"Betraying  _you?_ You're the betrayer," Tomas snarled. "I was your best friend and you cast me away like a torn sock."

"You were toxic," Arthur seethed. "You  _are_  toxic. You're selfish and cruel and you encouraged  _me_ to be selfish and cruel. You hurt and trick people because you enjoy it. You humiliated me in front of all the knights on one of the hardest nights of my life. You manipulated Gwaine to tell you secrets about Merlin. You mockingly revealed intimate things about Merlin's life to me without a bloody second thought. Was did it do? How was your life enriched in any way?"

"That's what it was all about, wasn't it?" Tomas asked. "It's always been about Merlin. Everything changed when he came into the picture.  _You_ changed."

"He's a good man," Arthur said, gritting his teeth.

"He's a  _servant._ Why you're so devoted to him I will never understand."

" _Devoted?"_ Arthur spluttered. He tried to come up with a retort, yet he found that he could not deny it. Despite how horrendous he was to Merlin, he would unquestionably defend him. He would and had sacrificed his own life for him. He trusted him blindly. Well… he used to. Arthur pushed thoughts of Merlin out of his mind. This wasn't the time to think about it. Tomas was approaching now. Arthur had to stop him, and running away wasn't going to help.

At that moment, Arthur knew what he had to do.

Gwen could take over, he reasoned, with Leon by her side. They would make a good couple. Strong, sensible. Sensitive to the problems of the poor but knowledgable enough to be firm when needed to. They'd be better rulers than Arthur would ever be.

Spinning around, he snatched up a sword. Tomas's face broke into a grin.

"You're a fool, Pendragon," he sneered.

Arthur couldn't move his feet. They were rooted to the ground now, heavy. Fixing him in place. He could feel the skin on his arm starting to harden. Tomas was laughing, white teeth stark and bright in the darkness. With his stiffening hand, Arthur swung the sword. The blade sunk into Tomas's hip. Arthur's hand froze in place.

Tomas gaped at the gash in his side. He felt to the ground, a hand over the wound. Blood leaked through his fingers, but his eyes were still flashing. He looked up at Arthur. Arthur couldn't move anything below his chest now. He could see the gray stone climbing up his skin like a disease, a fast-spreading rash. This was the end.

"You piece of shit," Tomas muttered. "You're as stupid as you are incompetent. This wound isn't going to kill me. You think your sister didn't protect me before sending me out here? She wants me alive."

"Or so she wants you to think," Arthur snarled.

"Either way, your plan failed."

Arthur's rage was growing with such intensity he couldn't string a sentence together. Instead he spat. Wiping saliva off his cheek, Tomas got to his feet. He held up the dagger.

"Now you've done it. You've insured that your death isn't going to be a peaceful one."

Suddenly Tomas was thrown back, as though kicked by an invisible giant. He hit the wall with a splitting thud, the dagger falling to his feet. Arthur cringed despite himself. Tomas tried to stand, but he was sent sprawling backwards again. Arthur followed Tomas's gaze as it fearfully drifted to the entrance of the room.

There, in the archway, stood Merlin. Arthur could only see a black silhouette at first, but then there was a flash of gold and Tomas was dragged across the floor by an invisible hand. He was deposited at Merlin's feet, gasping and dribbling. Merlin carefully picked up the dagger.

"Don't. Touch. Him."

And then everything went dark.

* * *

When Arthur awoke, it was pitch black. He felt a scream crawling up his throat, but then his fist closed over a blanket. His blanket. On his bed. He sat up, his head throbbing. His eyes began adjusting to the darkness. He was in his room. He ran a hand over his chest; he wasn't wearing a shirt, just his pajama pants. He ran his hand up his neck, over his lips. Skin. Everything was soft. His nose was fine. His cheeks were fine. His forehead… Something was wrong. He ran his thumb over it. There it was, a fine line of stone cutting through his eyebrow. He let out a gasp.

"Arthur?"

Arthur almost fell out of bed. A shape shifted, and Arthur looked down to see Merlin sleeping on the floor beside his bed.

"Merlin?" he whispered.

"I'm here my lord."

"What happened to me?"

"You don't remember?"

Arthur's memories were fuzzy. Watery. "Tomas…"

"Yes."

The stone scar was cold beneath his fingertips. "I was a statue."

"Yes."

"The knights?"

"They're fine. Gaius... um... found a way to reverse the spell."

"Oh." He touched the scar again. "I'm still part statue."

"A side-effect of the reversal sp... uh potion. It's just a light scar. Very thin. Hardly noticeable." Merlin looked ghostly pale in the darkness.

"How long have I been passed out?"

"Five days," Merlin said. His voice was weak. "You were the first person to be reversed. The... potion was in its trial stages. We... weren't sure of... the dosage..." Merlin exhaled loudly. "I'm so glad you're alright."

Arthur scratched his jaw. "How does it look?"

"What?"

"The scar. On my face."

"Oh."

"How bad is it?"

Merlin shrugged. "I think it looks nice."  _Nice?_ A scar on his face? Arthur almost scoffed. "You look almost rugged," Merlin said, lightly. Arthur made a noise of protest and a half smile spread on Merlin's face.

Arthur's stomach fluttered, but he ignored it. He focused on trying to remember the events of the evening. They were distorted, like he was looking at them through water. "So how did I…? You know...? Tomas...?"

The was a pause. A hush. Then Merlin cleared his throat.

"You hurt him. He was too weak to move when I arrived. So I picked up the dagger…"

It all came flooding back then. The golden eyes. Merlin's sobs behind that door.

"You did it," Arthur said to the darkness.

"Yes. Well,  _you_ did it really, sire. All I did was…"

"No. With magic. You used magic. That you have." His voice was accusing. He could see Merlin stiffen. "And then you brought us all back with a spell, didn't you?"

For a moment there was another long silence. Then Merlin let out a strangled laugh. "Arthur, you're obviously tired. Here, let me…" He stood up, and walked over to the bed.

"Don't," Arthur said, icily. Merlin stopped in his tracks. "Don't lie to me. Not again."

"You saw it then?" Merlin whispered.

"Yes. And I heard you talking about it."

Merlin screwed up his face. "What? When?"

"Before everything. To Gaius."

"You were in my room?"

"I was outside."

Merlin looked confused, and then fright overtook his features. "Arthur, please. Don't… I mean, I… I didn't know… how to… I couldn't. I was scared…"

"Nothing is going to happen to you Merlin. You saved my life." Arthur felt numb. His chest was still aching. Merlin looked like a wild rabbit about to be shot. How could he honestly believe Arthur would ever do anything to hurt him?

"So what are you going to do?" Merlin asked.

"About what?"

Merlin's eyes widened. He stuck a hand in his hair. "I have magic," he whispered.

"I don't care that you have magic Merlin," Arthur snapped. He did care. Of course he cared. He hated it. It scared him. It made him want to cry. "I care that you lied to me. Over and over again."

"I didn't lie," Merlin said, his voice strangled.

"But you said nothing," Arthur's voice was rising now. Angrier and louder than he intended it to be. "I feel like I don't know you. Every day I discover something new about you. Who are you?" he demanded. "A month ago you were my best friend. I knew you like the words to my favourite song, and now… now I have to discover that you're a stranger. Worse than a stranger." Arthur's voice cracked. Merlin's eyes were filling with tears.

"You know me, Arthur."

"You said that your magic makes you who you are," Arthur said, sticking a finger at him. "I heard you. You said that to Gaius. I didn't know you had magic… I don't know you at all."

"It's not true," Merlin said. His voice was wavering, but his jaw was set. "You know me. I've told you things I've never told anyone else. Even…" he took a deep breath "…without knowing about my magic… or Freya, you still… you understand me in a way no one else does. I'm always trying to hide when I'm sad and hurt… but you always seem to know. No one else can do that. Not even Gaius."

"You told me you felt like a monster," Arthur said. His vision was blurring. "I don't see it."

Merlin's mouth opened ever-so-slightly. "You don't?"

His voice was so small, and so surprised Arthur felt another bolt of pain in his chest.

"I've done things, Arthur," Merlin said, quietly. "To protect you. To protect Gaius… I  _am_ a monster."

"Well then so am I," Arthur said. He didn't know why he'd said it, but it was true. If Merlin was a monster, then Arthur was nothing short of something spawned straight from the pits of hell.

"You're not upset?" Merlin asked. He was shaking now, like a leaf in the wind.

"Sit down, Merlin," Arthur groused. He shifted in his bed now so that Merlin could perch on the corner of it.

"You're not a monster," Merlin whispered as he settled onto the sheets.

"Neither are you," Arthur mumbled.

The corner of Merlin's lip twitched, and he wiped tears off his cheek with the back of his hand. "Yeah? Even though I've on several occasions caused you to fall into mud puddles when you were being annoying?"

Arthur froze, then gasped. "I  _knew_ by the third time that it wasn't just a coincidence."

Merlin giggled. He smiled, and Arthur's heart started palpitating as he saw the sparkle return to Merlin's eyes. His stomach flipped, and he quickly looked down at his hands.

"I'm really happy that you know now," Merlin said. "You have no idea how hard it's been keeping this from you."

"I can imagine," Arthur said. He swallowed hard. "But no more secrets, alright? We're done with that."

"Yeah… you've found out a lot about me this month," Merlin said, sheepishly. He brushed hair off his forehead. "Well, I'm an open book now."

"Anything else you want to confess while you're at it?" Arthur asked.

Merlin grinned, his cheek dimpling. "I think I've said all I have to say."

"Good," Arthur said. He scratched the back of his ear. "I don't know if I could handle anymore revelations," he admitted. Things were starting to make sense now. How Arthur had magically won fights he didn't remember winning. How his food sometimes vanished off his plate. He frowned, suddenly remembering something. "Wait…" he said, "the old man…Dragoon. The Great, or whatever he called himself. The one who framed Gwen to look like she'd put a spell on me. That…" Arthur looked up at Merlin. Merlin's gaze dropped to his feet. "Oh my  _god,_ " Arthur said. _"_ That was  _you."_

"I had to save Gwen," Merlin said, lamely. Arthur stared at him. And then a giggle began bubbling in his gut and it spread until he was bent over, almost choking with laughter. Merlin was covering his face with his hands. "Dragoon the great?" Arthur shook his head, his stomach aching. "You're so ridiculous." God what a dork. "You really don't age well."

"Oi," Merlin protested, hitting him with a pillow on his back. "I did it to save you. Don't be a prat."

"I can't believe that was  _you,"_ Arthur said, wiping tears from his eyes. "You really are something else."

"You know what," Merlin said, shaking his head. "We're done with revelations about me. Let's talk about you instead. Have you got anything to confess?"

Only one thing.

"Like what?" Arthur asked.

"I don't know," Merlin said. "Secret girlfriends. Hidden talents. Ever dressed up as an old man?"

"Not that I recall," Arthur said, trying hard not to smile.

"I'm sure you have something," Merlin protested. "Come on. It's your turn!" He pulled his knees up to his chest and looked at Arthur with his big blue eyes. "Spill."

Arthur bit his lip. This chance wasn't going to come again.

"Ok," he said, before he could stop himself. "Close your eyes." He was being impulsive. Stupid. What was he doing? He already regretted it. But he couldn't help himself anymore. He wanted to tell Merlin his secret, and truth was, he was useless with words.

But what if it ended in disaster? Well, it was too late now. He was already on his way down the rabbit hole.

Merlin frowned, but did as he was told. He crossed his legs and squeezed his eyes shut. "Alright. Now what?" he asked. Arthur said nothing. He could feel his heart rate increasing as he moved closer to Merlin, his stomach whirling giddily. He could hear Merlin's breath hitch in his throat, and he wondered what Merlin thought he was going to do. He wondered what Merlin  _hoped_  he was going to do.

Arthur leaned in and swiftly left a kiss on Merlin's lips. Brief, soft. He retracted quickly, afraid. Uncertain. Merlin's eyes sprang open. For a second the two of them stared at one another, unable to talk.

"I didn't…"

"You call that a kiss?" Merlin demanded. Arthur's entire brain seemed to stop working. He wasn't sure how to react. "Guess I'm going to have to teach you how its done," Merlin said. He shook his head. "Let's try that again, alright?"

Merlin leaned in this time, placing his hands lightly on either side of Arthur's face. Merlin's lips were warm and soft and full between Arthur's own. The kiss was gentle at first, and then Merlin had his fingers tightly wound in his hair, and Arthur's lips were parted and greedy, and soon they were hot and breathless, tangled together on Arthur's bed.

Arthur wasn't sure how much time had passed before they broke for air. Merlin sat up, his face flushed, and tried to smoothen his hair. Arthur's heart thumped tipsily in his chest.

"I guess something good came from all these revelations," Arthur said.

Merlin smiled. He whispered something into the palm of his hand, and a candle flame appeared, bereft of wax or a wick. Merlin held it up, and it floated between them. Arthur could feel himself going slack-jawed with amazement as he watched it bob in the air. Merlin chewed on his bottom lip, the firelight dancing in his eyes. "Yeah, good things did come of it… so it's probably brilliant that I thought of one more right?"

Arthur almost groaned.

"This is only going to bring us together," Merlin said, airily. "You remember Lancelot, right?"

"Uh… yes."

"So he might have… um… knownaboutmymagicbeforeyoudid."

 _What?_ "Excuse me?" Arthur asked, disbelievingly.

"Ok, that's it. That's all." Merlin leaned forward and kissed Arthur quickly. Immediately, Arthur's exasperation disappeared like smoke into the darkness.

"You didn't do any of this with him though, did you?"

Merlin snickered. "No. Not for lack of trying though," he added, grinning.

"I hate you," Arthur muttered, tugging Merlin down by his tunic for another kiss.

"Love you too, dollophead."

THE END


End file.
